


Mononucleosis, Tonsillitis or Scarlet fever?

by clarinetchica



Series: These Little Joys [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, John is away, Parentlock, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 21:40:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1362649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarinetchica/pseuds/clarinetchica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of their children is sick and Sherlock has no idea what to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mononucleosis, Tonsillitis or Scarlet fever?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my own bout of strep throat

_Please answer your phone- SH_

**Sherlock, I’m at a conference. Can it wait? –JW**

_No. I need to talk to you- SH_

_Now-SH_

_Please-SH_

It was the ‘please’ that terrified John. Slipping out of the lecture hall, he hit his speed dial.

“John,” Sherlock answered the phone, deep voice betraying his calm.

“Sherlock, I swear to God, if this-“

“Erin is sick. I don’t know what to do.”

John pinched the bridge of his nose. “Describe her symptoms.” Dr. Watson took over, leaving John the father to worry on the sidelines.

“She is complaining of a sore throat, her lymph nodes are swollen and she has a fever of 38.3.  Is it Roseola? Mononucleosis? Tonsillitis? Scarlet Fever?”

“Calm down, it’s probably not that serious.”

“Probably? I want to do a throat swab, but I don’t have the necessary material.”

“Don’t you dare leave our four year old daughter alone while you go out hunting things down.”

“What if-“

“And don’t dump her on Mrs. Hudson, either. She wants her father, go act like one.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Take her down to the clinic. Tell them that I asked for a swab. It sounds like it might be strep.  Call me when you find out if the swab is positive or not.”

* * *

 

“But I don’t wanna go to the doctor,” Erin whined, curled up on the couch.

“Come on, Papa said that we have to go see whether it is strep or not.  Then I can help you feel better.”

“I don’t wanna.”

Sherlock sighed, leaning down to pick up his daughter. Wrestling her into her coat, he carried her down the stairs.  She was almost too big to lift, he realized, but she was sick, and she deserved it. He hated how he was feeling; he still wasn’t quite used to caring so much about another human being.

They trekked down the street, Sherlock balancing Erin on his hip.  He figured that walking would be quicker than a cab; it was only a few blocks away.

By the time they reached the clinic, Sherlock was exhausted, and Erin had not stopped complaining.

“Oh, hello Sherlock,” Charlotte, the receptionist, greeted them, “John’s at the conference, you do remember that, right?”

“Yes,” Sherlock rolled his eyes. Did she really believe he would forget where John had gone?  “Erin is sick, and John would like you to do a throat swab.  He thinks she may have strep throat.  I believe it is something else, but I shall oblige him.”

“Alright.  Have a seat and I’ll see who is available.”

He sat, cradling Erin on his lap. “It’ll be alright. We’re here to get you fixed up,” he murmured, smoothing her hair back from her forehead.

Charlotte soon returned, calling out to Sherlock, “Dr. Wilson is available, come on back.”

He stood, carrying Erin to the exam room.

“Hey Sherlock,” Dr. Wilson greeted, “What’s going on with Erin?”

He described her symptoms, Dr. Wilson feeling Erin’s throat gently, then using his otoscope to look down her throat.

“Well, she definitely has tonsillitis. We’ll do a couple swabs to see if it’s the flu or strep.”

Sherlock stood next to the table where Erin sat, pulling her into a hug.

“This will make you feel better, I promise.”

Dr. Wilson soon returned. “It’s strep. I’m giving you a prescription for amoxicillin.”

Sherlock internally sighed his relief, Erin would be on the mend soon.

“Keep an eye on yourself and James,” Dr. Wilson instructed, “Strep is _very_ contagious.”

“I am aware of that,” Sherlock said, annoyance in is voice.  Did he really need to remind him?

“Yes, well, here is the prescription. I recommend some cold foods to help- clear liquids, ice cream, that sort of stuff.  It will help her sore throat.”

Sherlock nodded, and they left, stopping at the pharmacy and a shop to pick up the things to help with Erin’s recuperation.

Bundling Erin up on the couch, Sherlock set a bowl of ice cream down on the coffee table. 

“You can have the ice cream after you take this pill,” he promised, happy to have something to speed her healing process.

Erin soon fell asleep, and Sherlock remembered he had promised to call his husband.

“Hello?” John picked up right after the first ring.

“Hello, John.  I took Erin to the clinic.  She has strep.”

“What did they give her?”

“Amoxicillin.”

“Good, that will help.  I’ll be home tomorrow, but she should be feeling a bit better by then.”

Sherlock smiled. “I’ll be glad to see you,” he admitted, “I’m rubbish at this.”

“You’re doing fine, love.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodbye.”

* * *

 

When John returned the next day, he found Erin and Sherlock on the couch, both looking miserable.  Leaning down to give Sherlock a kiss, he was stopped with a hand on his chest.

“I believe I may have caught it,” Sherlock croaked.

“Oh, love,” John ran his hand over Sherlock’s curls, “I was afraid this would happen.  Let’s get you some medicine as well.”

Sherlock smiled up at him, “Glad you’re home.”

“So am I, Sherlock, so am I.”

“I want ice cream,” Sherlock whined, sounding like his own children.

John sighed, he should have expected this. “Come on, Sherlock, you can get it yourself.”

“But I’m sick John,” he whined, “And Erin is comfortable.  I don’t want to disturb her.”

Resigned, John made his way to the kitchen, scooping out a bowl for his childish love.  It seemed like he would be spending the next few days waiting on Erin and Sherlock.

“Thank you,” Sherlock whispered when John returned, “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too.  Now, eat your ice cream and get some rest.”

“Of course.”

“The sooner you get better, the sooner you can get back to your experiments.”

Sherlock chuckled softly, turning his attention to the bowl John had brought him.

“I love you,” he said between bites.

“Love you, too.”


End file.
